Walls Don't Open
by sky tulips
Summary: Your walls don't open up like doors to the real world because you just can't exist there anymore. Walter/Henry


**disclaimer; **silent hill (c) konami

-

_walls don't open,_

Henry's grip was unsteady. His hand wrapped defensively around the cool but grimy steel of his weapon - a bent and weary pipe that he'd pulled out of the hole that had intruded his bathroom wall not so long ago. His hand was quivering slightly, wavering on the verge of slipping, but Henry held on to it. His other hand was up beside his head where he was desperately massaging his temple, circling his palm into the skin.

He coughed breathlessly and raised his pipe, swinging it down so it jittered against the wall and then he sighed weakly; his attempts hadn't even flaked the thin lick of paint. A pained cry from behind made him drop the pipe and bring both hands to his head, every noise in the apartment sharply forced it's way into him like a dull, heavy blade to the head and he could feel his strength weakening with every second he spent there.

"I have to get out," Henry muttered breathlessly, stumbling against the wall. Trying to break through the wall was useless which meant his only possible option was to clamber through the hole again. Henry's hand stuttered against the door handle as he entered the washing room. His headache dulled, but the coppery scent of dried blood hit him immediately and he felt instantly nauseated.

Henry always pushed his hands into the hole first, as far as they could go. The hole was always so eerily black, there was no telling that something could be in there or that something could have followed him back from where he'd last been. After feeling only the jagged edges of crooked stone and concrete, Henry slipped in easily on his knees and shuffled clumsily for what would sometimes last ages and what would sometimes be over with quickly. But today, when his bones were weak and hollow and his head felt like it had been violently bludgeoned, it seemed to last forever.

-

Henry tumbled out of the exit and to the ground. His palms were scratched and bleeding and the fabric covering his knees was scuffed and torn from where the sharp rock pieces had dug deep. Henry wearily stood up, brushing the dirt from his face and clothes and then stared into the night. He was in an alley. The alley was littered with rubbish and half broken objects and two muddied gutters ran at a parallel on either side. The cool night air wrapped around him and the calming sound of night time traffic greeted him from the street. With a newfound strength, Henry jogged to the end of the alley and gaped at the sight of the city. There were people walking around, chatting and laughing and the appetising scent of food fluttered though the air and the car-filled streets. Henry's hands lost grip and the bloodstained pipe fell to the ground with a metallic clatter, but Henry didn't even notice. He stepped up and out onto the sidewalk and turned in a full circle, his lips parted in amazement.

"What-?" Henry breathed, wondering if any of this was real. Was he really seeing any of this? Or was it possible he wasn't even there himself? Were any of these people even seeing him?

"Excuse me," Henry suddenly called out to a group of passers-by, "Wh-what time is it?"

The young woman looked Henry up and down at first, wrinkling her nose at his dirty clothes. "It's seven fifteen," She said coolly, before she continued walking down the street.

Henry paused, leaning back against the clean brick wall. Could it be possible he was... back? In the real world once again? Or was it too good to be true?

"You know," A voice suddenly cut bitterly into Henry's thought, "If you'd wanted to know the time, you could've just asked me."

Henry turned his head, feeling both scared and empowered at the same time.

"_I _could make it any time you wanted, Henry." Walter walked forwards towards Henry and then turned so he was leaning against the wall in exactly the same fashion, "What time do you want it to-?"

Henry used his foot to kick himself away from the wall and faced Walter directly. "What do you want?" he asked, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

Walter smiled slowly, making Henry feel instantly uneasy; making him steal a glance at the two grimy guns that Walter was holding.

"You can't- you can't get me _here_." Henry said quietly, "There are too many people around."

"_Can't get you_." Walter repeated monotonously, "I _brought_ you here, Henry. Don't think I can't take you out."

Walter grinned as he said his last three words and Henry almost stepped back and into a run.

"Why did I come here?" Henry finally signaled all around, "Why to the real world? Why now?"

"You wanted to, didn't you?" Walter said, seemingly bored and concentrating on inspecting the flakes of blood that tainted the metal of his gun, "You were trying to escape through the walls. Walls don't open, Henry. That's what the tunnels are for. Walls don't open. Walls don-"

"So is this," Henry paused, unsure of what to say, "So is this the end of all this?"

Walter's smile disappeared and Henry felt aware he'd said something wrong, but then, Walter laughed delightedly, his eyes widening.

"No." Walter said, and then his laughter stopped and his eyes narrowed, "Think of this as a little... insight."

"Insight?" Henry asked, wondering to himself how he'd ended up in this situation, weaponless and vulnerable and having what... _seemed_ to be somewhat of a normal conversation with the man who was trying to kill him.

Walter ignored Henry's inquiry and began to walk forward himself, stopping at the edge of the sidewalk, just before the gutter and putting a gun in each of his pockets. Then, before Henry could say anything more, Walter tossed his arms upwards and cast his head towards the sky.

"This is the world!" he exclaimed and then threw his head back to face Henry. "But it's not _our _world."

Henry remained silent and Walter's arms returned to his sides. "You understand this insight?"

"Wh-?" Henry began but he was cut off when Walter shoved a dirty hand against his mouth.

Henry wriggled backwards, trying to break free, but Walter's strong hand only pushed down harder.

"We could exist here." Walter said plainly, "We could _exist_." he emphasised again, ignoring Henry's restraint and shoving his back against the wall.

"We could exist." Walter said gently, "Her together even."

Then, Walter relaxed his hand and let Henry go. Henry coughed and looked down to the pavement. The ground was blotched suddenly by the start of rain.

Walter tilted his head curiously, waiting for Henry to say something.

"Even if we could," Henry eventually muttered dully, "We won't."

Walter smiled and brought his hands together and then out again as if making a silent applause.

"No," he agreed, "Let's not turn to real life just yet."

Henry looked around at the emptying streets. The sky was getting darker and the rain was getting heavier; the latter of which was both flattening and washing the flakes of blood from Walter's dark blond hair. Walter pushed back his hair and continued.

"It's because we're having too much fun playing this game, you and I. This delicious game of cat and mouse. It's what we both want, isn't it? _That's _why your walls don't open, Henry. Because we're having too much fun." Walter said and Henry shook his head defiantly.

"We are, aren't we?" Walter said, as if Henry had just agreed with him. "But sadly, this intermission is drawing to an end."

Henry slumped against the wall once more, completely soaked by the rain as Walter reached into his wet and stained coat to pull out Henry's battered, old pipe. Handing it to him freely, Henry grabbed it and wrapped his hand around it. Walter's guns were still in his pockets. If he could gather enough strength- if he could gather enough strength right this moment, he could put Walter out of action long enough to get as far away from him as possible. Henry's grip tightened, his numb, wet hands clasped strongly around the steel.

"So I'd start running, if I were you." Walter breathed menacingly, "I'd start running now."

Walter smiled and began to backtrack into the darkness and Henry's grip slackened and he felt the sickening stab of fear creep up into him. After all, Henry was just a man and Walter was a monster. There was no way Walter could live in the real world at all; and neither could Henry now.

So Henry stumbled back though the now rain-blotched and deserted streets and then, as if he were swallowed up by the night, he was gone.


End file.
